The Burrow

I know some pretty fabulous women.  Really, I do. Roomie started her new job today, a job she pursued over many long months of unemployment.  She was resolute and resourceful and always up-beat.  If she was worried she didn't show it.  If she was frightened we never knew it.  She was the party planner, gift organizer, grandma-extraordinaire she'd always been, and we were lucky to be the beneficiaries of her love. Mei-Mei deals with brain surgery and a job she hates and her face is wreathed in the glow of those who are loved.  The man in her life stepped up to the plate in a big time way and the joy is contagious.  She, like me, battles demons of her own, beasties lurking just beneath the surface, ready to pounce without a moment's notice.  We both do our best to pretend they aren't there.  Most of the time we're successful. When I fail, it's nice to know she's at the other end of the ether. My still-blond-new-old-friend sent an email th...

I had to write it.  I couldn't put it off any longer.  My guy at the DOJ has been respectfully reminding me that the US Attorney and the Attorney General were waiting to see if I wanted to weigh in on the death penalty. In reality, I didn't want to.  I wanted to ignore the whole situation.  I wanted not to care. But, as I've said before, when the People of the United States prosecutes your offender I believe that there is an obligation to show up.  So, I went to the arraignment.  One purpose was to desensitize myself to his presence.  The more important reason was the fact that it was happening at all.  There was no lynching, no mob violence at the scene.  We are an orderly people, governed by the rule of law, and, as a (n unwilling) participant I had to go. I knew then that I'd have to write something about his fate.  Did seeing him in person make a difference?  I didn't consider that fact before choosing to attend the arra...

Next Monday afternoon I hope to be able to report that Dr. Boaz has released me from my non-weight-bearing status.  My speculation is that physical therapy will be ordered; pilates and yoga... probably not. These last 7 days are going to be special.  The temptation to rush the healing, to lean on my right side just a little, to wonder if the bone cells really do need the last few hours to heal themselves properly - it's like smelling fresh out of the fryer donuts dangling just out of reach.  I am so tired of being dependent. Dr. Boaz isn't concerned about my redder than the other foot as long as it doesn't hurt and the temperature doesn't vary.  Apparently, I still have vascularity issues.  Who knew?  His nurse asked me if it was less colorful first thing in the morning, but I never remember to look at my foot first thing in the morning so, once again, who knew?  I am not used to my body playing tricks on me.  Then again, I've never been sho...

We weren't friends in high school; I'm not sure she knew who I was back then.  I certainly knew who she was.  She commanded the hallways as she passed through them, her long straight blond hair swishing perfectly behind her.  We weren't in any classes together, but she was always in my consciousness.  She was, as they say, a presence. I hadn't given her a thought until we sat across from one another at a reunion dinner a few years back.  The conversation was random and wine fueled.  Stories were shared, most all of them flattering to the teller.  Hers was one of confusion and consequences and love, lots and lots of love.  It was personal and revelatory and I was hearing it.  At the other table sat the girls I remembered, the ones I sat next to in class, the ones who thought they knew my story as I thought I knew theirs.  Here at this table, no one knew me.  I was as foreign to them as they were to me.  So I listened....

I couldn't say it better myself.  Turn the sound down low if you are at work, and spend 3 minutes and 11 seconds with these men, these ordinary yet triumphant men.    And now that you have the general idea, watch it again.  Feel your smile broaden. And don't worry, it's okay to be teary.  It's just a little bit dusty at your desk today. When people ask me to explain my sunny attitude, I stumble and fumble and I'm never quite sure that I am conveying what I really want to say.  I'm living a reality without the luxury of observing it from afar.  I am in the center of a maelstrom of good wishes and court proceedings and out of town visitors.   I am the calm in the eye of the storm.  Everyone is watching, wondering, worrying, hovering over and about me.   I am alive.  That's about as far as I get in terms of deep thought on this issue .  That alone is enough to keep me occupied, it seems.  The citizen heroes, ...

I'm up before the sun comes over the Pusch Ridge, startled by the sudden brightness as the first light hits the window in the library. I'm thinking of you, denizens, and wondering how your day has started, wondering what I can tell you about mine. Billy Collins says it better than I ever could so please, enjoy the words of my favorite poet describing exactly how I feel about you all right now: A Portrait of the Reader with a Bowl of Cereal Every morning I sit across from you at the same small table, the sun all over the breakfast things— curve of a blue-and-white pitcher, a dish of berries— me in a sweatshirt or robe, you invisible. Most days, we are suspended over a deep pool of silence. I stare straight through you or look out the window at the garden, the powerful sky, a cloud passing behind a tree. There is no need to pass the toast, the pot of jam, or pour you a cup of tea, and I can hide behind the paper, rotate in its drum of calamitous news. Bu...

Bloggers are a solitary bunch.  We sit at computers and type to friends we've never seen nor can ever hope to see.  We read one another's work and admire and comment and wonder - what is she really like in person? Yesterday, Chicago Gal and I found out.   Becca invited me to a Mom It Forward meet-up.  That sentence can be parsed into an entire post of its own : she left the initial invitation in a long comment available to the eyes of anyone who took the time to read it; she's a young mom with a great camera and she lives here in Tucson but our lives don't intersect anyplace except in the blogosphere; Ashleigh Burroughs captivated her but she invited Suzi to the event; Mom It Forward is a great name but what is it?; a meet up??? How cool have I become?  First Alice Cooper, now a 21st century be-in .... younger readers can click over to Wikipedia for insight into the 60's version ... I am on the cutting edge here, denizens. After milk shakes and fries a...